


What happened last night?

by wendalee



Category: Glee
Genre: Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-05-12
Updated: 2012-05-12
Packaged: 2017-11-05 06:11:40
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,156
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/403266
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/wendalee/pseuds/wendalee
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Written for a challenge at the now-defunct LiveJournal community, Gleeverse.</p><p>The prompt is from Texts From Last Night:<br/>(952): It's official. I am the girl who threw up in the library. Hangovers and midterms do not mix.</p><p>The ladies piece together a very confusing drunken night on the streets of New York.</p>
            </blockquote>





	What happened last night?

Rachel Berry eased open her eyes and groaned. Light. Too bright. Covering her face with her sleep mask again, she shifted and realized…she was not alone. There was an arm draped over her midsection.

The arm appeared to be feminine and lithe. Risking more pain, she opened her eyes a bit more and followed the arm up to its corresponding body. She was not prepared for the sight she saw.

Quinn Fabray was lying next to her in bed, drooling on her pillow, with her hair all mussed up.

Closing her eyes again, Rachel attempted to determine exactly WHAT had happened.

Studying in the NYU library. Check. Awful, terrible theory midterm of doom. Check. Santana and a bottle of bourbon. Check.

Next to her, Quinn stirred and grumbled. “Jesus, Fabray, will you STOP MOVING?!” came Santana’s grumbly response, which emanated from somewhere around Rachel’s feet.

“How can I move? You weigh like, 500 pounds,” was Quinn’s annoyed response.

Reopening her eyes, she looked down. Rachel was, at least, somewhat clothed. All the necessary clothing was there, at least. She was most definitely NOT in her NYU dorm room, but in Santana’s apartment on the Upper West Side.

Well. That was the last time she let Santana convince her that taking shots was a good idea.

***

The last thing Quinn remembered was the five of them getting kicked out of the library. Drunk and giggling, Brittany had already thrown up in a trash can in the ladies’ room.

“Guys, I should really go and catch the train back to Connecticut,” she protested, starting to head in the direction of the nearest subway.

“Please, girl. At this time of night and in this state, you think we’re letting you leave to ride an hour on a train ALONE?! I do not think so. There’s this fantastic club right around the corner. We can just pop in for a few minutes have one drink, and then go back to my place. You can catch the first train in the morning,” Santana pleaded.

Quinn could never say no when Santana looked at her. “Fine. And when I fail my midterms, all of you bitches are going to be to blame.”

***

The club that Santana had suggested looked slightly seedy, but wasn’t as bad as Tina had imagined. Tina’s midterms weren’t as bad as everyone else’s, because she hadn’t really declared a major yet. She was really drifting and was grateful when her old friends invited her out.

It seemed like they all had these fantastic lives. Rachel was at NYU, having been offered a fantastic scholarship at the Tisch School. Quinn was pre-law at Yale, Santana was majoring in women’s studies at Columbia and Brittany was dancing in an off-Broadway production.

And Tina was just…there. She came to New York with the rest of them to study psychology at a smaller community college, but she wasn’t really enjoying it. Everyone else had this great passion, and it seemed like she was frequently just…there.

So, unlike Quinn and Rachel, Tina had spent most of her first semester drinking sake at a sushi bar around the corner from her apartment that she shared with Mike. So when Quinn and Rachel were barely able to walk, she was still, for the most part, upright. But eventually, after the second club, Tina gave it up and went home.

She may have been only 19, but she was officially getting too old for this.

***

Brittany pre-drank every time she went to the library.

In fact, the only reason she went to the library at all was because Santana was there. And, staring at everyone else’s piles of books and notes, Brittany was really glad that she had chosen to become a star, rather than go into college.

Deep down, she knew that she wouldn’t make it through college anyway. Not even as a dance major. The only thing that she knew on the day that she graduated from William McKinley High School was that she wanted to dance and she wanted to be with Santana.

She still felt that disconnect that all of her friends were doing something and she filled up her days with drinking, dancing and then drinking some more.

On this day, she had come home from a particularly bad rehearsal where she felt she had mildly sprained her ankle and had gotten yelled at several times. The first thing she did when she walked in was poured herself a glass of wine.

Then another.

By the time Santana had staggered in the door from her waitressing job, she was good and well drunk. So Santana had enticed her to the library to meet up with everyone else.

She should have remembered: mixing wine with hard liquor – never a good idea.

“I wish I could be smart like yoooooooooooou,” she said to Santana, slurring out her words.

“Jesus, Brittany, no more for you. I have to study, remember?”

“Yes, studying. That’s what we’re really doing here. Because you can really study with a bottle of bourbon and a bunch of old friends. Don’t even try to blame this on me,” Brittany said, getting up with a huff and stalking to the bathroom.

And there was that woozy feeling that accompanied the need to relieve oneself of the contents of your stomach. Poised over the trash can, Santana’s face swam before Brittany’s eyes while she threw up, cold sweat springing on her brow.

She almost never threw up. And now, Brittany was severely embarrassed to look and realize that what she thought was a trash can was…in fact…the sink.

***

Santana saw the pallor on Brittany’s face and knew that she had obviously just thrown up.

“I at least hope you feel better,” Santana barked.

“We have to leave immediately,” Brittany said. “Let’s just say…I missed.” All five girls scrambled to grab all of their belongings and raced for the door, with Santana giggling like mad.

Santana was the one who could keep the party going long after everyone had passed out. She didn’t realize when she graduated how much she would miss high school and her friends. She was always reluctant for all of them to split up again.

It was why she constantly pushed for them to go out, even when they shouldn’t.

She could never admit it to everyone else, but she was homesick most of the time. Her connection to Quinn, Rachel, Tina and Brittany was all that kept her sometimes from throwing herself in the Hudson River.

When she went to sleep that night, Santana purposefully positioned herself so she was lying on Quinn and Rachel’s legs. That way, she would know when they got up to move, rather than just waking up with them gone.

She saw Rachel stir first, then Quinn. They would leave soon, and she would be alone once again. But at least she had had one good night.


End file.
